I do not miss the irony that the first Monday of Men’s Health Month found me swearing at the scales. Be sure, my sins of the weekend had found me out.
I should have known. I wrote about it last year.
It’s funny in a way, although not so much, I forget what prompted me last week to adopt a new mantra “Every Choice You Make.” By that I mean that I have to realize that I am where I am because of choices I made, and that I’ll only get to where I want to be by making the right choices. I even made myself a little sign for the home office. I briefly, very briefly, considered a small tattoo of that on my wrist. But I realized that was a choice. And a bad one.
So, over the weekend, the choices had us hitting up the Greek Festival, the college graduation party of the son of good friends (a fine friend himself), and spending Sunday afternoon at King’s Dominion.
I didn’t think my choices were that bad. In retrospect, standing alone, they probably weren’t. But, the scales were too damned high this morning. And I could not justify that I’m off my mark because of muscle weight gained by bending my elbow. I tried, I really did.
That being said. I know the choices I have to make to reverse this trend. I’ve already started.
Truth be told, for a large, almost-fifty-six-year-old, I’m not in that bad of shape. Although I’ve also realized that I shouldn’t be that impressed with the older men I see working out at the gym…mainly because they’re probably my age. But other than my weight (a constant struggle), my arthritis, the ringing in my ears and this pesky sore on the bottom of my foot that won’t go away (yes, I had my blood work done, no I’m not diabetic), I’m in pretty decent health. Not bad for a 24-year cancer survivor.
Granted, that could change at any time. So I just need to do what I can to take care of myself. Okay, to take better care of myself.
You do, too.
Make some healthy choices.
Put away the salt shaker.
Cut back, or better yet, eliminate sugar and those pesky over-processed grains.
Fruits and vegetables. Fruits and vegetables. Fruits and Vegetables.
Move. Early and often. Take a walk, take a hike, go for a swim. Just get out of your chair and move.
Get your butt examined. Literally, as well as other parts. Men under the age of 40 should be checking the boys for lumps or other things that just aren’t right. Men over the age of 50 need the exam and the colonscopy.
I don’t care how uncomfortable it is. Either get it done, or turn in your man card. This stuff is serious.
Trust me, I’m a survivor.
As for me, I’m watching the intake, working on the swimming, trying to take that daily lunchtime walk. And, as much as I don’t want to, I’m getting ready to resume the strength training.
And sleep. I need more of it.
I just finished reading Chris Brogan’s The Freaks Shall Inherit the Earth: Entrepreneurship for Weirdos, Misfits, and World Dominators. It’s good stuff for anyone with an entrepreneurial twitch. But one of the things that Chris says is that he gets as much as 10 hours sleep each night. I don’t know how he does it. I’m lucky to get that in two nights. I have work to do.
Either that, or a nap to take.